


promises kept

by fonulyn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Ada is mentioned lol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infected Piers, M/M, Piers Nivans Lives, Piers is hurt and BSAA are assholes, but still assholes, established Piers/Leon, idk - Freeform, in the name of doing the right thing, mentions of amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: “What do youmeanhe’salive?” Leon’s heartbeat picked up and he couldn’t stay still anymore. He jumped up, circling the table, and there was only one thing left in his mind. He grabbed his jacket, already shrugging it on, his voice choked as he barely got out a “Take me to him!” as he reached for the door.He was stopped by a hand on his arm, and when he spun around he immediately knew something was wrong. Chris had pinched his mouth to a grim line, nothing but endless sorrow in his eyes as he looked straight at Leon. “No one is allowed to see him now,” Chris said, clearing his throat to make it carry steadily.--Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Piers Nivans
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	promises kept

**Author's Note:**

> for [a tumblr prompt](https://fonulyn.tumblr.com/post/622836775838269440/okay-heres-a-feels-trip-piersleon-in-re6), and idk if this makes sense but I was super emotional and the emotions needed a way out somehow ;'D

The words were like a punch in the gut. Leon stood there, staring at Chris, eyes wide open and unable to comprehend what he’d just been told. He’d thought that his world had ended already three weeks ago when Chris had approached him, exactly like now, and told him somberly that Piers hadn’t made it out of the facility. That Piers had injected himself with the virus and died while protecting Chris. 

“What do you _mean_ he’s _alive_?” Leon’s heartbeat picked up and he couldn’t stay still anymore. He jumped up, circling the table, and there was only one thing left in his mind. He grabbed his jacket, already shrugging it on, his voice choked as he barely got out a “Take me to him!” as he reached for the door.

He was stopped by a hand on his arm, and when he spun around he immediately knew something was wrong. Chris had pinched his mouth to a grim line, nothing but endless sorrow in his eyes as he looked straight at Leon. “No one is allowed to see him now,” Chris said, clearing his throat to make it carry steadily, “I… haven’t been there either. Besides,” he inhaled sharply, as if he was bracing himself, but provided the rest of the excuse anyway, “he’s unconscious so it wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

“Wouldn’t—” Leon started, disbelieving, but didn’t get any further than that. He was fighting back tears, unable to swallow down the lump in his throat, and although he tried to keep the waver from his voice he didn’t manage. “It would make a difference to _me_. Besides,” he blinked, Chris turning blurry in front of him, “how do you know he can’t hear us? I _need_ to—”

“Leon,” Chris said, infinitely gently, “if there was a way I could pull that off, I would.” He squeezed Leon’s arm in a sign of support, and he looked almost as devastated as Leon felt. “I didn’t even want to tell you this at first, because… there isn’t much hope for him.”

“So that’s it?” Leon asked. “He’s going to die alone and I can’t even go there to say goodbye?” There was a weight on his chest squeezing so hard he could barely even breathe. It was like losing Piers all over again, and the wounds from three weeks ago were still fresh enough to bleed on their own.

Chris’ silence was answer enough.

*

There was a pile of files slammed onto Leon’s desk that made him look up in surprise. Chris was standing there, and when Leon said nothing he reached out, tapping a finger onto the pile of folders. “I don’t get to see him either,” Chris said, and he didn’t need to elaborate on who he meant. It was obvious anyway. “But I get daily reports on his …progress.”

Slowly, Leon blinked. He’d spent the past week trying to figure out a way to get into that laboratory the BSAA called a hospital, and he’d just ran into so many walls he felt utterly exhausted. No one knew anything, no one was telling him anything, and even with all the strings he’d pulled he still hadn’t even gotten anyone to officially admit Piers _was_ held in there.

And here Chris was, telling him he’d been receiving these reports every day for weeks? 

Leon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And you’re only telling me now?” he asked, careful and measured, so that he wouldn’t simply explode at Chris. They’d been friends for fifteen years, Chris was as close as a brother to him, and this felt too much of a stab in the back from him.

There was a pause, and only when Leon looked up at Chris did Chris answer. “Those aren’t easy to read, Leon.” 

Suddenly Chris looked old, like life had squeezed everything out of him. Like the tiredness he was carrying was too much for one person to handle. He tapped the files again, giving Leon a curt nod. “Don’t let anyone see you have these. I’ll bring you the next one tomorrow.”

*

After Chris left, Leon sat still for the better part of an hour only staring at the pile of papers in front of him. He felt wholly unequipped for this. He’d faced down monsters his entire adult life, and he couldn’t face reading a report now? Holding his breath, he reached out and flipped the first one open.

_the specimen is unconscious_

The _specimen_? Leon wanted to scream, but he forced himself to read on anyway. There were a lot of numbers, test results he couldn’t understand, data he had no training for. Yet it were the flippantly added descriptions that made his hackles rise. 

_eyes respond to light – has pain response_

Pain response? Leon felt sick already before he read forward, dreading the details. There were none. But even without the detailed explanations on what they were doing it was clear that they were testing the pain threshold that their _specimen_ could handle, and this time Leon did double over, throwing up in the trashcan. 

These were BSAA scientists and doctors. They were supposed to be the good guys, they were the people Piers had fought with, fought for, the people he’d given his life for and—

Leon flipped to the next page. They were all filled with more of the same. It felt impossible to read further and yet Leon couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop he...

Eyes burning with unshed tears he read through all of the files, hoping for something, anything, that would give him reason to believe that Piers would make it through this.

*

From then on those daily reports became the center of Leon’s life. He hated them, but he couldn’t live without them. He was trying to get the ball rolling on multiple fronts, fighting for any chance he could get to actually get to see Piers while he was still alive. Nothing worked. He’d heard “sorry, sir, you’re not related so you’re not entitled to anything” more times than he could care to remember.

The reports themselves didn’t really change much. Until one day, when the black ink on white paper was like shouting at Leon.

_the specimen is awake ___

Awake!? Did that mean Piers wasn’t going to die, after all? Maybe he had a chance! Leon held his breath as he read the following words; awake, conscious, able to speak short sentences at a time, gets tired easily, infection not spreading. Major brain functions apparently not damaged. Unable to control right arm, possible need for removal, blindness in one eye. 

He was alive. 

Yet there was one more subsection in the report compared to the earlier ones. It was titled simply _Electricity_ , and Leon blinked before reading forward. And what he saw forced all air from his lungs.

_able to withstand up to 300 milliamperes before any signs of muscular constractions, ventricular fibrillation at 2,1 amperes, loss of consciousness at 3,2 amperes. seems unaffected by up to 12 amperes._

Those numbers couldn’t be accurate. There was no way they were pumping electricity through Piers, let alone amounts that would’ve killed any regular human being several times over. This had to be a mistake, he was probably producing the electricity himself because of the mutation, it made no sense, but... 

_loses temper when subjected to electric shocks. more experiments to be conducted at a later date._

There was finely crafted bullshit about how this would help them learn about the virus, how it would benefit everyone, and how eventually they would save thousands of people. It was all for the greater good, and what was sacrificing one man if it could save so many.

Fuck those people. Fuck the entire BSAA. Leon would get Piers home, if it was the last thing he did.

*

Eventually came the point when Leon was already desperate enough to consider infiltrating the BSAA laboratory and risk being incarcerated for it. He was running headfirst into a wall wherever he tried, and every step forward he took, there were two steps back.

The newest report he’d seen detailed how they had amputated Piers’ arm and a lot of the surrounding tissue, and were hopeful that the first version of the vaccine they were testing on him would help suppress the virus. 

_the amputation has been finished, but the averse effects to the specimen’s dna seem permanent. possibility to suppress under examination._

With a deep sigh, Leon dropped down into his seat, reaching to set the report down on the table. Only then he noticed the small white envelope with a red lipstick mark in one corner. Instantly he knew who it was from, and without thinking he reached out to grab it. There was an USB stick inside, with a short note saying: _Consider us even._

Truthfully Leon wasn’t really keen on knowing what she was cooking up now. Tiredly he reached for his laptop and pulled it open, but once he saw what was on the storage he suddenly couldn’t stop reading through the files. 

How Ada had managed to dig up so much dirt, and of the exact right people? Leon preferred not to know. That didn’t matter now. 

What mattered was that now he had the leverage he needed.

*

Leon’s hands were shaking when he finally stood in front of the door to the hospital room. It had taken him the better part of two weeks to get to this point, but now he had a shiny new visitor’s badge and he was allowed into the building at strictly specified times.

For all that he’d rushed into the building the first thing he could, he’d stood behind the door for so long he was beginning to talk himself into blind panic. 

Finally he swallowed hard, knocking lightly before pushing the door open and stepping inside. He let the door fall shut behind himself, his heart aching for the still figure lying under the covers. The first thing he saw was what was missing. Piers’ torso was wrapped in bandages, nothing where his right arm used to be. Half of his face was wrapped up too, and whatever was visible of his skin looked unnaturally pale. 

“Go away,” Piers muttered, voice hoarse, not even looking up. “I’m tired.”

And all Leon could do was choke on a sob. The sound alerted Piers and he turned his head finally, eye widening as he saw Leon. 

Not a single word was exchanged. Everything happened like in a fog, as Leon moved closer and Piers reached out with his single arm, and finally they sank right into one another. Leon buried his face into Piers’ neck, hugging him as tight as he dared to, and he felt the fingers gripping the back of his shirt. Leon didn’t know which one of them was shaking, who was making the weak sniffling sounds, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care.

After a small eternity Piers was the one who broke the silence. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered. 

And it broke Leon’s heart all over again. “I thought you’d died,” he answered, equally silently, as he pulled back enough to look at the other man. He brought a hand up to cup the uninjured side of Piers’ face, gently brushing his thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “I’ve been... I did...” he struggled to find the words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

Piers smiled shakily. “You’re here now.”

“I am,” Leon agreed, nodding. He had to blink back tears, but at the same time he smiled for the first time in months. “I promised you, didn’t I? You won’t get rid of me, not in this life.”

“Good,” Piers laughed, a wet sound, one that shook him as if it was painful, “good.” He looked like he was already on the verge of passing out, tired beyond what was normal. The pain had smoothed away though, his features relaxed, and the soft smile kept lingering on his face.

Leon laced their fingers together, giving Piers’ hand a careful squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised, “I’ll be right here.”

Whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he’d stay right there. 

*

Originally Leon had gotten strict visitation times, no more than fifteen minutes a day, not every day, but reality turned out different. Leon simply refused to leave. The scientists and doctors were going in and out of the room most of the day, taking samples, drawing blood, making tests, monitoring things, and for the first week they always gave Leon displeased stares. With time, it seemed they got used to his near constant presence.

For once in his life Leon had nothing but time, with how most of the DSO was on hiatus while things were reorganized. He’d been furloughed, with no one to answer to right at that moment, and a part of him hoped that it wouldn’t change anytime soon. 

One thing that was clear from the start was that Piers was in a great deal of pain. He never complained, but it was easy to see the twist of his brow, the shaking of his fingers, no matter how much he tried to cover it up. 

Sometimes they wheeled Piers away for ‘more testing’, and that was when Leon wasn’t able to follow. The first time he tried to step out of the room a doctor blocked his way, arching a challenging eyebrow at him. “You may have forced your way in here, Mr. Kennedy,” the tone was venomous, “but you are not in the BSAA. You have no clearance to the laboratory.”

All Leon could do was grit his teeth and bear it. And hold Piers close when he was brought back, shaking and pale. 

One of the scientists was more amenable to Leon than the rest, and she often lingered in the room to answer questions unlike anyone else. She upped the dosage of the painkillers on bad days, and actually seemed to listen. She was the one who set up a new IV drip one day and _finally_ gave them both a precious morsel of hope. “We’re hopeful this version of the vaccine will help suppress the virus,” she said. “It’s the third attempt, don’t they say third time’s the charm?”

“What’s different this time?” Leon asked, blindly reaching for Piers’ hand, lacing their fingers together. Piers’ palm was as clammy as his own, and somehow that eased the nerves within, made him exhale and let go of some of the tension. He needed to stay calm, for the both of them.

The scientist turned, facing them properly. “It just takes time with these things. We’re not being mean by delaying the vaccine. There are thousands of people who need it. Thousands who will benefit from us knowing the virus better.”

“And that justifies nearly killing _him_?” Leon asked, jaw squared, clutching Piers’ hand so hard it probably hurt. He still remembered the third degree burns on Piers’ good arm, on his ankles, where they’d attached the electrodes and tried how much electric current would be lethal. To his knowledge that hadn’t happened again. But he trusted none of these people.

The woman met his gaze straight. “Some missteps may have been made. But yes. The needs of the many are more important. Don’t tell me, Agent, that you wouldn’t save a thousand people over just one.”

Leon gritted his teeth. He was held back by Piers squeezing his hand, though, and he didn’t say anything at all.

*

The vaccine helped. It wasn’t instantaneous, it didn’t happen overnight. Yet it was clear how slowly Piers was breathing more easily, slowly the dosage of the painkillers could be lowered, slowly his sleep was getting more restful.

Leon stirred awake to fingers toying with his hair, blinking sleepily up at Piers. “You need something?” he croaked, his voice nearly cracking with the lack of use. His back screamed in protest as he straightened, his neck hurting from how he’d fallen asleep half-sitting in the chair and half-slumped over Piers’ bed. He rolled his shoulders, hoping to ease it up a bit, but froze in mid-movement as Piers spoke up.

“You don’t need to do this, you know?” 

His voice was so silent that for a second Leon thought he’d misheard. The look in Piers’ eyes was so earnest though, so open and so... gutted, that there was no mistaking how honestly he meant it. “Do what?” Leon asked, but before Piers could answer the question he went on. “Don’t say things like that. Of course I do.”

“Leon, I...” Piers hesitated, swallowing hard as Leon reached up, brushing soft fingers over his cheek. “I don’t want to be an obligation to you.”

“When I heard you’d died,” Leon started. He met Piers’ eyes straight, unblinking. “I never dreamed that I would get you back. So now? You’re stuck with me until you don’t want me anymore.”

“As if that could ever happen,” Piers answered. The anguish had receded, a faint smile lingering on his face. “I will always want you.”

“Then I will never leave,” Leon said easily. To him, it was that easy. It was how things were. He brushed his thumb over Piers’ cheek again, a gesture so familiar to them both by now that it spoke more than any words did. 

For the first time in months, it truly felt like things would work out. They’d get through this.


End file.
